Spare Us This Last
by funeral flowers
Summary: One-Shot. Scarlett thinking over what Rhett had just said to her. PG-13 because I don't think it's PG. HTML is fixed!


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Disclaimer: Hem, Hem. I do not own GWTW, or any characters portrayed in the story. A few phrases (see if you can pick them out!) were in Gone With The Wind, the novel/movie.

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Author's Note: I was bored and listening to the Beatles. The haunting words "Why not write a songfic?" popped into my head and I began. Have fun reading it. OR ELSE. Have a nice day! 

Spare Us This Last

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Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise

Scarlett clung to the banister watching Rhett leave. Her mind seemed to have escaped her as she begged and pleaded to a closed door. She screamed his name as she heard the wind blow and shake the shutters, afraid. Scarlett screamed and sobbed and the door was blown open and she could see Rhett staring at her, his black eyes penetrating her skin harder than the wind could. Scarlett called out to him but all he did was stare. _This last?_ Scarlett wondered to herself. _Spare us this last?_ She shivered and held her hand out, the other gripping tightly to the mahogany wood, smooth against her hand, her knuckles turning white.

"Rhett!" Scarlett called out to her husband, as he had not made any advances. A ray of hope beamed down upon her as he gave her a faint smile and stepped forward, then bent down and grabbed his suitcase. _My dear,_ Scarlett shivered again and called him, over and over, him not answering. _I don't give a damn._

Scarlett watched him leave, leave her home, leave her heart, leave _her._ She let go of the stair rail and let herself fall to the ground, heart racing as her head hit the wooden floor, feeling already, the bruise, and the blood, from her nose, that was getting into her mouth. She looked up. There was no one, there was nothing, that she could return to. No one. Melanie had died and Rhett just left her, Mammy was at Tara, and Ashley, well, he had enough to deal with already.

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Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free

So Scarlett wept and wept until she felt she could no longer and retired to her room and lay down on the bed Rhett hadn't laid in beside her in since years ago, it seemed. She stared at the ceiling, hearing the birds outside as they sang, as they cried, as she cried, having lost everything. Having gambled it all and leaving empty handed. 

_Spare us, _Scarlett could feel nothing but cold from the open window, _this last. Leave us some dignity, some reticence to remember out of our marriage. Spare us this last._ Scarlett turned and stared, wide-eyed, at the blood on her pillow.

She stood and faced the window with its cold glass and its unforgiving rains outside. It was a deep contrast in her eyes, hurting them almost, the red glow of her kerosene lamp against the wet blue-ness of the outdoors and the mist. The mist that haunted her these many years in dreams that would never go away. She would never get through, never open the door… 

_You think that by saying 'I'm sorry' all the errors and hurts of years past can be remedied, obliterated from the mind, all the poison drawn from old wounds…_ Scarlett pressed both palms to the window. But she was sorry! She was very sorry. It was all her fault. Melanie, Ashley, Rhett, all their problems could be traced back to her. Even Bonnie's death it seemed. _Take my handkerchief, Scarlett. Never in any crisis of your life have I known you to have a handkerchief._ Scarlett looked at the balled up piece of cloth in her hand.

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Blackbird fly.

Black bird fly, into the light of the dark, black night

"But," Scarlett sat down and stared at the white fabric, her eyes not leaving her palms, not leaving the crumpled reminder of her love-lost that she had returned to her pocket, eyes still focused upon the ground, "but I love you!"

_That's your misfortune._ His voice still lingered in her ear. _No Scarlett, I will not be pursued as the luckless Ashley was pursued._ Pursued? Scarlett wondered to herself as she could feel the tears returning to her eyes again, tearing through her deep emerald eyes. _My dear,_ She could go to Tara! His voice still haunted her mind, still haunted her head, her eyes; her ears. _I don't -_

"I'll go home to Tara! I will!" And she let herself smile, despite the pain and the feeling her face was being torn in two at the rise of the corners of her mouth. "After all, tomorrow is another day." _My dear, _it was much louder this time…

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"I don't give a damn."

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.


End file.
